


Come Alive

by reina



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2141769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reina/pseuds/reina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 3x18: Robin and Regina finally have that drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Transferred over from a prompt I received on Tumblr.

     They’re sitting in the den, side by side on the stiff sofa made for entertaining rather than comfort. The clinking of ice against crystal the only thing to be heard as she swirls the amber liquid, staring down into her glass. 

She’s overly aware of his presence beside her, his arm occasionally brushing against hers from time to time. Their conversation has been reserved— stilted— since he's arrived, telling a completely different story than their lips had the night before. 

~

_“Regina—”_

_“Come over tomorrow night,” she breathed, her eyes searching his face franticly. “For a drink,” she rushed to explain. His fingers on the back of her neck tightened, pulling her against him once again. Their lips met slowly, lingering on each others’ taste before Robin pulled back, leaving only enough space between them to breathe._

_“I will.”_

~

     Regina watches him from the corner of her eye as he brings his glass up to his lips, swallowing down the remainder of his drink, the sound reverberating in the quiet room. She thinks of lighting the fire place, just to create a more comfortable atmosphere, but decides against it. It wouldn’t do to fuss about it now that he’s already here. If he really is _that_ uncomfortable, he could have made an excuse to leave by now. Besides, she doesn’t want it to seem as though she expecting him to romance her — even if it is an appealing thought.

     Robin takes a breath as if he’s about to speak and Regina freezes, her hand pausing it's ascent in bringing the glass up to her lips. Instead, he sighs, and her shoulders slump in disappointment. Where had all her courage gone? She shakes her head, closing her eyes for just a moment before opening them again.

     “I suppose you’re wondering why I—  _reacted_  to you the way I did yesterday,” she finally says, after they both finish two glasses, Robin already nearing his third. She wonders if she’s ruined the easy comfort they’d had with each other by kissing him. If she is being honestly with herself, ignoring the whole ‘soul mate’ aspect, she’d been quick to trust him; to feel their connection. And now? … Now, they can barely look at each other for longer than a few moments before they look away.

     “I did… for a bit,” he replies with a nod. Regina lifts her gaze from her glass to look over at him, a small smirk playing on her lips.

     “You think you know what it was?”

     “I have my theories… but I’d like to know yours,” he says, looking up at her, returning her smile. She feels relief as she spots the upturning of the corner of his mouth. She wets her lips and looks back away, letting out a breath of uncertainty as she mulls over her response. 

     “I might not… even  _exist_  in a few days time if my sister executes her plan successfully,” she says hesitantly, pursing her lips. She doesn’t even have to look up to see the worry on his face to know that it’s there. She can tell by the way he tenses beside her. “She’s planning on turning back time… to make sure I was never born,” she explains, finally looking up at him. The frown on his face turns into a slight look of contemplation and he lets out a long, seemingly frustrated sigh.

      “I can see how that would make you want to live out the remainder of your days taking a few risks and living on the edge.” There’s a sharpness to his voice that makes Regina bite down on her bottom lip in concern, and she waits a while before speaking again.

     “Did I upset you…?” she asks quietly, feeling as though her voice is much too loud. Robin turns to her fully, angling his upper body towards hers as he searches her face. She doesn’t shrink at the scrutiny, that’s not who she is. Instead, she meets his gaze head on, despite the uneasy feeling in her stomach.

     “Why did you kiss me, Regina?” he asks, seriously. Her brows furrow and she shakes her head.

     “I— ”

     “Did it  _mean_  anything to you? Or am I just—” Her eyes widen in realization and her hand shoots out without her permission, her fingers wrapping around his forearm.

     “No! Robin,” her voice quiets again, and she sighs. “I don’t know… I… I just wanted to,” she lies. Only partially, since it's not completely untrue. But she can’t tell him everything. Not now. Not when they only have so much time. Perhaps if they make it. If they defeat Zelena, then she’ll tell him the truth. Tell him everything about the pixie dust, the tattoo, and pray that he doesn’t run off like she did the first two times.

     “Why?” he asks, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Why did you want to?” And only then does she realize how much closer he’s moved. She shakes her head slowly, not once breaking his gaze. She swallows and blinks, contemplating her answer.

     “You can’t ask me that,” she responds, her eyes flickering to his hand as he lifts it to brush a strand of hair from her face.

     “Is it wrong for me to want to know what’s going on inside your head?” he asks in a whisper, his fingers brushing against her cheek. Regina can’t control the way her eyes sting with his gentle touch and kind words. She could have had this. She could have had this long ago. But then she wouldn’t have had Henry. He wouldn’t have had his own son. She wasn’t allowed to have regrets.

     “No,” she whispers back after a moment, fighting to keep her tears from falling. His thumb brushes against the corner of her eye, wiping away the gathering moisture. She wants to push him away; gain some distance between them because his proximity is only making her feel so very weak.

     “I promised you I’d get your heart back. I intend to keep that promise.”

     “Robin—”

     This time, it’s him who kisses her first, his lips moving against hers in a slow and steady pace. He only breaks away from her for a second to place both of their glasses onto the coffee table, before he’s pulling her into his arms. Just the brush of lips against lips for several minutes has her melting into his embrace. Her arms wrap around his shoulders and she struggles to move closer to him— as close as she can— before he finally pulls her onto his lap, arms wrapping securely around her waist. She shivers when one of his hands stray and his fingers brush against the skin of her back, left open by her dress. He takes that moment to tease her lips, brushing his tongue across her bottom lip before nipping at it. Regina sighs into his mouth, letting her tongue brush against his, her desire for him flaring down her body. She can barely catch her breath, but she doesn’t mind; the need to have her lips on his seems to outweigh her basic need to breathe. 

     In a moment that feels like hours later, he’s breaking the kiss, leaving a fiery trail down the column of her neck and her chest is heaving in a struggle to get air into her lungs. Her breaths come in short gasps as her fingers grip his hair, bringing his lips back to hers.

     “Robin,” she pants, her breath ghosting over his lips. His hand trails down from her waist to her thigh, causing a shiver to run down her spine; the hairs on her arms standing on end. She feels a pounding in her chest, where her heart should be, and she wonders, wherever her heart actually is right now, if it’s visible just how aroused she is. She thinks that it’s quite possibly pounding franticly, desperate for the touch of the man before her. The way that he sets her skin on fire, just from this scarce amount of physical contact, makes her wonder if perhaps she’s had too much to drink, but then she catches sight of the patch of skin above his wrist, and she knows that she can’t blame her draw to him on alcohol. 

     “Milady,” he murmurs, the timber of his voice low, as the tips of his fingers draw nonsensical patterns on the inside of her thigh closest to him, just below the hem of her dress. Regina nods once and parts her legs, just a bit, in answer to his unspoken question. She wants this. She  _needs_  it: Human contact. It’d been so long since someone had voluntarily touched her like this. The last man that had touched her with such intent had been unfairly influenced. Graham never would have wanted to bed her if he knew exactly what and who she was. But then again, Robin was nothing like Graham and neither was her relationship with him. 

     The first touch of his fingers against her damp panties has her sucking in a shallow breath, the air hitching in her throat. As his index finger finds the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs, Regina lets out a low whine, her head falling to his shoulder. She feels, rather than hears, the rumble in his chest as he growls when he pushes aside the cloth covering her sex, running his fingers through her slick heat. 

     “Wh—” she lets out, surprise and confusion colouring her expression, when he suddenly pulls his hand away and moves her off his lap. She doesn’t get to finish questioning him before he’s laying her down on the couch, and pulling panties down her legs. “Oh,” she breathes, her eyes meeting his as he settles between her parted thighs. He breaks away from her gaze, looking down as he moves her dress up her hips and out of the way. She drops her head onto the couch once she catches the hungry look in his eyes and she feels her stomach flutter in anticipation. 

     The first thing she feels are his lips against her thigh, his stubble grazing against her sensitive skin, and she gasps, before feeling him smile against her. He leaves warm, wet kisses everywhere in his vicinity— except the place where she desperately craves him. Regina reaches out with one hand, wrapping her fingers in his hair, tugging once. He chuckles quietly, his warm breath ghosting over her core.

“Patience, Your Majesty,” he says lowly, the rumble in his voice making her shiver. She’s just about to protest when his lips press against the skin of her pubic bone,  _just_  above where she needs him, and her breath hitches in her throat. She thinks about cursing him for not giving her what she wants immediately, demanding that he follow her wishes. Yet, she knows that she can’t. That isn’t her anymore. Especially not when she’s with  _him_. Not a moment later, she feels his tongue swipe through her sex and she struggles to keep her thighs from clamping shut around his head. Her hand lets go of his hair, and instead, she rests both her hands on her thighs before she feels his join hers there, his fingers lacing with her own.

     He teases her endlessly, his tongue circling her opening, alternating between dipping inside on occasion then retreating and flicking across her clit, until she’s a panting, quivering mess, calling out his name fervently, her voice hoarse from use. He has to let go of her hands, pressing his forearm against her hips to keep her still as he brings his free hand between her legs. Regina’s hands automatically reach for his hair, pushing and pulling his face away, the feeling of his mouth devouring her whole driving her to the brink of insanity. She can’t seem to control the way her voice rises when his fingers curl inside of her, mercilessly brushing the pads of his fingers against the rough spot on the front wall of her slick, tight sheath. 

     The coil in her lower belly only tightens further, building in pressure, until it finally snaps. Her jaw drops in a silent scream, and her inner muscles spasm around his fingers, but he doesn’t relent, lapping at her arousal in earnest. Her ears are buzzing and she has to remind herself to breath when her head finally stops spinning. 

     Regina’s body is relaxed and pliant beneath him when he finally crawls up the length of her, her mind pleasantly free of any thought whatsoever. She feels him nuzzle his nose against her cheek, quiet and patient, despite the fact that she can feel the evidence of his arousal against the inside of her thigh. He kisses her then, allowing her to taste herself on his lips, and she hums in contentment. The smile that stretches across her lips is lazy and inevitable, especially when she hears him chuckle with a sense of pride.

     “Are you satisfied with yourself?” she murmurs, cracking one eye open and making him laugh once more.

     “As long as you are… — _satisfied_ , that is,” he says, brushing the tip of his nose down her neck, inhaling her scent. Regina quirks a brow when he pulls back to look at her, aiming for nonchalance, but fails miserably due to the permanent smile on her face.

     “Perhaps,” she drawls, pulling her knees up and hooking her legs around his hips. “But I could easily be persuaded for another round,” she says, as her eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips. She brings her hand down his chest and lets it rest against the bulge in his jeans, her ears tuning in on the low moan he lets out at the contact. 

     “Regina,” he says, through gritted teeth, as she tugs on his zipper, blinking at him with faux innocence. “Don’t start anything you don’t intend to finish.”

     Regina grins up at him, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Oh, I  _intend_  to do a lot more than just finish… outlaw.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just realized that almost everything I've written is rated M and I want to crawl into a hole now.


End file.
